


By His Hand

by SilverLynxx



Category: The Greatest Showman (2017)
Genre: Angst, Emotional Hurt, Established Relationship, Hurt No Comfort, M/M, Non-Sexual Spanking, Physical Abuse, wow this sounds heavy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-12
Updated: 2018-03-12
Packaged: 2019-03-30 13:40:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 906
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13952751
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SilverLynxx/pseuds/SilverLynxx
Summary: He opens his eyes, and he can see the ringmaster shattering before him – the way his hands tremble and his eyes shine wetly. A tear rolls down his cheek as if he already knows Phillip’s answer before he’s even spoken it.





	By His Hand

**Author's Note:**

> I was requested spanking wangst, and so spanking wangst I wrote. Then I tried to recover it and subsequently made it worse! I decided to give it its own fic since it was longer and a bit more developed than the snippets in **The Greatest Showcase**  
>   
>  **No explicit sexual content. Brief, non-explicit reference to previous coupling**

Barnum’s hand comes down with such force that the air hisses around it. It connects with Phillip’s ass with a noise so piercing that Phillip barely bites back his pained howl, but he dutifully swallows it until he fears it might choke him. He releases a shaky breath, staring down at the droplets of moisture spotting the floorboards beneath him. He doesn’t know any more if they’re from sweat or tears.

The pleasure had ceased a long time ago. Phineas hadn’t seemed to notice that Phillip’s moans had as well. Another blow comes down with a sickly _snap_ , and pain explodes across his bruised skin. Phillip’s hands curl into fists, his nails chipped from where he’d started clawing at the floor in an attempt to assuage the pain.

Held firm over Barnum’s knees, the man’s assault is fast and severe. He mutters seething words beneath his breath, none of the usual amorous whispers or sweet praise he was so used to. It was stresses of the day. Injustices not wrought by Phillip himself - yet he was the outlet, and Phineas was clearly so consumed by his own aggravation he didn’t realise the ruthlessness of his work.

Phillip prays for it to end.

With a snarl, the very essence of his suppressed rage, Barnum lands a final harsh blow. Phillip convulses in agony with a harrowed cry before sagging limply over the man’s knee like a ragdoll. He drags gulps of air into his lungs and swipes the moisture from his eyes, waiting in the ensuing tense silence with little more than a wet sniff and several shaky breaths.

“Get up.” The command is quiet but forceful, lacking the previous ire.

Phillip pushes himself up slowly, flinching as he staggers. His legs tremble and pain throbs through flesh and muscle. He waits, hoping for at least a flicker of sympathy, or remorse, or apology; for that soft loving warmth Phineas gave so freely to return.

“Get dressed, I want to be alone.” Phillip’s breath catches, shocked - a little bit broken. Phineas had never discarded him like this, not even after their roughest couplings.

“Phinea-"

“ _Go!_ ”

Phillip inhales sharply, silently pulling up his trousers and trying not to flinch too sharply as they aggravate his surely bruised flesh. Like a kicked dog, Phillip casts one last look at Barnum before he leaves; hurt only more when the man doesn’t spare him a glance.

 

* * *

 

“Phillip…Phil…”

Phillip tries to ignore the man, but he knows his prospects of that lessen substantially when Barnum closes the door to their office. He looks over at the ringmaster from where he stands by the window, leaning against the wall as he reviews their budgets and itineraries.

They both know why he doesn’t do so sat at his desk.

Phillip finds the remorse deep-set in Phineas’ very presence to be belated, and he turns away, posture stiffening. Phineas steps forward slowly, like he’s approaching one of their most capricious lions. A sharp look keeps Barnum’s hand at bay, hovering tentatively inches from Phillip until he regretfully withdraws it.

“I’m sorry.” His voice is low, rough with emotion, no longer the stifled rage from the day before. It was the Phineas Phillip knew and loved, but now he was grossly aware of the unfamiliar that dogged the man's once inarguably tender nature.

“You hurt me,” Phillip shoots back, a bite to his words. Phineas’ lips curl down at the corners but he doesn't protest, _can’t_ protest, the terrible statement. “You _used me_ for…for...” he can’t even say it. He releases a deep, steadying breath. “You sent me away, Phineas.”

Barnum’s hands flex at his sides with the effort to keep them there. His averted gaze catches Phillip’s bitter blues with shame, his body stiff with disgust at his own actions, his own disregard. And god, he _aches_ with guilt.

“I broke your trust. I-I have no right to ask for your forgiveness, to overlook what I did. I don’t...I don’t know how...but please, Phillip,” he gingerly holds out his arms in quiet offering.

“You don’t _deserve it_ ,” Phillip hisses, hating the emotion that catches in his throat. Phineas shrinks into himself, but doesn’t recoil. He nods in bleak agreement.

“I don’t…but you do,” he replies thickly, soft yet persevering, offering Phillip the care and the comfort he’d cruelly denied him. Phillip hesitates, and that seems to hurt Phineas above all else.

Phillip imagines going to him; approaching with faltering steps yet letting himself be enveloped in the man’s embrace. Long, strong, protective arms winding tight around him, cradling him close, swathing him in his familiar scent as his head easily finds that comfortable nook in Phineas’ neck.

He closes his eyes, the quiet, weak part of him pleading for that comfort he’d wanted, that apology he’d waited for. Phillip releases a short huff of breath, devoid of humour. He opens his eyes, and he can _see_ the ringmaster crumbling before him – the way his hands tremble and his eyes shine wetly. A tear rolls down his cheek as if he already knows Phillip’s answer before he’s even spoken it.

“You don’t deserve my forgiveness,” he mutters. He straightens himself from wall and bypasses Barnum without another glance. Blinking away the sting of his own tears, Phillip presses on as he hears Phineas slump to the floor in the office, the echo of his wretched sobs following him down the stairs.

 


End file.
